


all the voices just burn holes

by serenitysea



Series: i'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark Skyeward, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2409857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it’s not as if she wakes up one day and thinks: <i>yes. let’s take over the world</i>.</p><p>…well, actually.</p><p>it’s pretty much <i>exactly</i> like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the voices just burn holes

**Author's Note:**

> BUCKLE UP. (and blame rachel and melissa for this, while you're at it.)

it's not as if she wakes up one day and thinks: _yes. let's take over the world._

  
…well, actually.  
  
it's pretty much _exactly_ like that.

  
  
*  
  
the thing is.  
  
the thing is, skye hears voices a lot.  
  
in the beginning, when the world was filled with fitzsimmons in the lab and may at the helm of the bus and coulson in his office doing coulson-like things — and ward being a stern-faced SO in the cargo hold — it was easier to tune out.  
  
she could bat away the pesky voices because there were other things to focus on. many different faces and real life voices that consumed so much of her time and energy that she just… didn't have the _worry_ lurking in the back of her mind.  
  
but then.  
  
fitzsimmons get a divorce (sort of). may leaves the helm of the bus and takes over to unofficially head up shield. coulson is a director, but in title only. (everyone knows may is really running the show.) ward is locked away, holed up somewhere far below the surface.  
  
and when this happens… the voices come back.  
  
with a vengeance.  
  
*  
  
but let's start at the beginning.  
  
*  
  
when skye was at the orphanage, she would hear a voice every so often. it was usually a helpful voice and would tell her things like:  
  
_don't go down that hallway right now_ (which she would be very glad for, because shortly thereafter pained cries and screaming could be distantly heard.)  
  
or  
  
_avoid the stewed greens_ (another life saver, as literally more than half the students had contracted a level of food poisoning so horrible that the nurse couldn't help them and an outside doctor had to be called for assistance.)  
  
or  
  
_don't call her 'mom' because this is a bad fit and they'll never want you_ (she doesn't listen to this one, because she wants so _badly_ to belong somewhere and for someone to _want_ her and it just winds up in heartache a crying jag that lasts the better part of two days.)  
  
  
when she comes back after _that_ terrifyingly bad decision, the voice is harsh with displeasure. _what did i tell you_ , it nastily whispers. _you have deliberately disobeyed me._  
  
and before skye can do anything about it — or begin to apologize — it is joined by another, softer voice.  
  
_don't._ it says, somewhat musical and feminine. _she's young and she is allowed to make mistakes, even if they will only hurt her in the end._  
  
skye doesn't really know what to make of the two voices in her head. they seem to exist in some kind of harmonious relationship that she kind of wants to question (in the middle of math and history, where the nuns are looking at her with unabashed curiosity) but doesn't have the courage to put it into words.  
  
the nice voice turns soothing tones on her again and adds, _you should really listen to us, dear. we just want to help you. we'll never leave._  
  
and skye thinks that she's probably okay with that.  
  
(by the time she knows enough to regret that, it is far too late.)  
  
*  
  
when she gets kidnapped by shield (or coulson and ward, depending on your viewpoint) the voices are back.  
  
_tell them about centipede. tell them anything you can risk to stay onboard. find your parents. you deserve to find your parents._  
  
so skye does. she tells them about centipede, tells them what they need to hear to make it seem like she will be an unwilling consultant when all she really wants is to get her hands on their computers and databases.  
  
she's _weirdly_ good with computers, after all.  
  
the voices help.  
  
*  
  
she learns about her new family; learns that fitz is susceptible to sleepwalking if he doesn't do enough science during the day; that simmons prefers to iron her jumpers because it makes her feel more in control in a world filled with uncontrollables; that may is a roiling _mess_ of anger, heartbreak and despair. coulson is harder to read but even he has weak spots — she learns that appealing to his humanity and ideals are the way to get to him.  
  
on ward, the voices are completely silent.  
  
they do not offer anything.  
  
what she learns about ward, she learns on her own.  
  
which makes it so much harder.  
  
*  
  
the obelisk is what changes things.  
  
it amplifies the voices to such an extent that she can't ignore them.  
  
they now tell her things like:  
  
_coulson is not himself. stay away from him and question everything he commands_  
  
and  
  
_may is lying to you and doesn't even feel sorry about it_  
  
and  
  
_fitz will recover but not because of anything they are doing here. if you want to help him, listen to us_  
  
it's always:  
  
_listen to us._

_listen to us._

_**listen to us**._  
  
  
and because skye is fed up with being kept in the dark and because she's still _reeling_ from ward's betrayal — she figures she's got nothing to lose.  
  
so she listens.  
  
(and _oh_ , what a _spectacular_ mistake it turns out to be.)  
  
*  
  
she wakes up and it's a clear sunny day.  
  
no one would ever believe that she would leave her room to systematically de-arm and disable: trip (in the cafeteria before he eats his second pancake), lance (on his way back from the showers), may (in a rare unguarded moment as she's leaving the director's office with a camera slung over her chest), and coulson (where he sits at his desk, staring blankly at his hands).  
  
they tell her not to bother with fitz and mack, so she doesn't.  
  
_the bus has more power but can't be managed by one person. take the quinjet._  
  
"what makes you think i'm going alone?"  
  
_there is no one on this team worthy of your partnership. it is bad enough you didn't kill them._  
  
"i'm not _killing_ them, guys. it's just not polite."  
  
_killing is more than just a means to an end. it's the beginning of something new. we would know._  
  
skye rolls her eyes and keeps walking. there's one more stop she has to make before she leaves the base.  
  
*  
  
when she walks to the vault, the voices get angry.  
  
_stop this right now. you don't need him — you've **never** needed him. _  
  
and skye would ordinarily listen, she would. except.  
  
except she kind of needs a break from this _relentless_ chatter and the ever-present headache that comes as a result from having them in her head.  
  
and the only time she gets that is when ward is around.  
  
so she goes down to the vault.  
  
she flat out _ignores_ the voices and their rising anger.  
  
_if you don't listen to us, you'll be sorry_  
  
and  
  
_honestly dear, haven't we saved you from the darkness before? why would you throw away what we're telling you now — we're just trying to help._  
  
skye doesn't have the energy to explain or rationalize her decision — mostly because she knows they don't care to hear her reasons as getting ward involved is in direct opposition to what they want.  
  
"sorry guys," she mumbles under her breath, fingers moving over the tablet while she descends further into the vault.  
  
the lights flicker on with each step until she reaches the bottom and stands before him.  
  
ward stares at her with unabashed curiosity. "skye."  
  
when she looks at him, it is with a detached interest as she notes the strength in his arms and power in his shoulders. multitudes of barely leashed power reside under his skin.

she _needs_ him.  
  
"let's go." she orders, deactivating the barrier.  
  
"is everything —"  
  
"they're out of the way for now."  
  
he frowns. " _who_ is out of the way?"  
  
"we're taking the bus, even though _they_ wanted me to take the quinjet. _alone_. which was a _terrible_ idea, by the way."  
  
"skye, who are you —" ward picks up the pace and scrambles to keep up with her detached bursts of information and rapid path to the hanger bay.  
  
she knows he hasn't seen the base and is rapidly trying to assimilate the information coming his way and feels a moment of pity for him.  
  
she stops and grabs his hand. "i'm going to save you. but first we have to get out of here."  
  
"skye," ward is careful to keep his voice level and calm, "where _is_ everyone else?"  
  
she shrugs. "unconscious. or knocked out from the biohazard agent i released twenty minutes ago."  
  
"do you really think —"  
  
"come _on_ , we don't have all day and i really don't want to have to fight our way out of here, do you?"  
  
ward stares down at her tiny hand where it tightly grips his. she follows his gaze downward and grins sheepishly. "sorry we're repeating history, but in your defense, it wasn't a totally awful idea the first time around."  
  
while he is busy trying to process _that_ , she is striding forward with purpose and closing the ramp behind them.  
  
the bus is cloaked almost immediately and they fly away from the base without interference.  
  
she sets a course for parts unknown and heads to her bunk. "i'm just going to take a small nap." because his expression is unreadable, she feels compelled to add, "don't worry, _silly_. i'll be back soon."  
  
*  
  
when she wakes up not too much later, they somehow wind up being together in the cockpit. ward has been quietly watching as the levers move and shift without prompting (something autopilot mode does not ever do) and flicking his gaze to her every so often.  
  
"skye."  
  
skye idly drums her fingers on the controls and kicks her feet up on the panel. "yeah?"  
  
"when did you learn to fly the bus?" ward is asking questions and they are the kind that the voices _do not like_.  
  
but they can't interfere when ward is present and for that, skye is extremely grateful. she decides to do something nice for him as a reward, and uncoils from the pilot's seat to plop herself in his lap.  
  
ward's hands automatically come to rest on either side of her hips, even though there is a reluctance to his actions she does not entirely understand.  
  
" _they_ taught me. they've taught me everything i know and mostly it's good but right now i am so tired of hearing them and the only time they go away is when you're around, so —" she snuggles further into his lap and brings her knees up on either side of his shoulders. from this position there is no mistaking her intent or the intimacy implied. "— thanks."  
  
ward is not totally unprepared when she kisses him, tasting of darkness and the kind of bittersweet that makes your eyes sting with pain. he gradually begins to respond, all the while thinking that something is not quite right — but it's hard to keep a rational thought in his head when skye is moving _like that_.  
  
she draws back for air and he puts a soft grip on her elbow in tender restraint. "skye."  
  
when he says her name with that quietly determined command threading through it, it reminds her of learning how to disarm an opponent and muscle memory and _committing_ to things. it drowns out the voices that are frantically trying to recapture her attention and she wants to know what it is that he wants from her _more_ than she cares to know what they want.  
  
she tilts her head and smiles. "yes?"  
  
he tucks back the hair behind her ear. "who are _they_?"  
  
she grins brightly. "my parents, of course."  
  
*  
  
( _that's what's so interesting. the baby's **parents** were the monsters._ )


End file.
